The Chosen One - Shatterpoint
by DepthRuler
Summary: The Chosen One had always been destined to hold the key to all, but the philosophies and beliefs of the Jedi have found contradiction in the wake of true, visceral love. No one understood Anakin Skywalker's shatterpoint because not even he understood until now. Until the one he would give his life for began to walk away forever . . .
1. Chapter 1

_How could she get so far and leave like this?_

Her march away from their life together was unrelenting. After the so-called Jedi Council's pathetic display of an apology and attempt to justify their unforgivable mistake because they were oh, so perfect, Anakin was the only person left to try and bridge the gap between Ahsoka and what she knew as life. But the Council had grazed her conscience, her confidence, her being, her faith, beyond repair.

But . . .

Anakin knew there was something within him that drove her away even more. He didn't know what it could have been, or why. But something he did brought unhappiness to her. He had to know. With every loss―faint, near, full―he felt control over himself, over his conscience, slip away. The death of his mother had awakened something within him . . . something he never sought to be. It had provoked the loss of his stability. He couldn't lose Ahsoka now, too.

He found her still storming away, now outside the Temple and beyond the steps to the entrance. From the Council Chambers, she had began her leave on an elevator and left Anakin waiting for it to return. He had ran with every ounce of his willpower, overcoming his shortness of breath―something he hoped Ahsoka could restore.

"Ahsoka, wait! _Ahsoka_, I need to talk to you!"

At last, she had stopped.

Now he forgot about everything again. Padmè, Obi-Wan, Palpatine―in this very moment, he held Ahsoka dear more than anything. He found himself at a crossroads with those he trusted most in Ahsoka's wake, somehow. He didn't know how to form thoughts about it. And he didn't want to. He did not want Ahsoka, because he needed her, and nothing else in this moment.

She turned around slowly, and he stopped beside her, panting impatiently. He didn't save his breath for what he needed to say. What he needed to ask. What he needed to know.

"Why," he gasped within a centimeter of his life, "are you doing this?"

"The Council didn't trust me," she said, as though it were her fault. "So how can I trust myself?" She folded her arms and looked away.

_Don't do this to yourself._

"What about me? I believed in you―I stood _by you!_" Anakin didn't want to yell at her, but the subconscious intensity of his voice implied his care. But an edge of desperation belied something beneath a mask only Ahsoka seemed to understand.

She spoke softly. "I know you believe in me, Anakin. And I'm glad to gain that from you. But . . ." She trailed off, unsure what to say.

His eyes widened. "Ahsoka, what is it?"

She looked at him with a pleading look he had never seen before. "I can't handle any of this anymore. I have to go." She turned again, unable to look him in his emotional blue eyes.

"Please," Anakin pleaded. "We can make everything alright again. There's a different way . . ." _I can't live without you._

She looked at him again, as though she were searching for a recollection. Anakin wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I can't." The warm rays of the setting sun danced gently across Coruscant's surface, and Anakin watched them glamour within Ahsoka's gentle eyes.

They both turned their backs on each other, denying something. It wasn't ominous, but it was a painful reality only Ahsoka understood.

"I understand," he sighed, "more than you realize." No one else would know. "I understand wanting to walk away from the Order."

Time slowed and only the blowing currents of the air could be heard, and then the words were said.

"I know."

Ahsoka stood there as Anakin searched for clarity, and then the dawning realization fell on him.

_Padmè._

Anakin felt Ahsoka receive the name as their link together slowly began to tear. And then she walked away.

_It wasn't our fault. It was mine._

The bridge between them peeled away slowly with each tear that fell from Ahsoka's gentle eyes. Anakin felt his life fall apart with each one.

As her taps on his soul became less intelligible with their impact as she took each step away, he felt coldness insert itself into his heart. His tears froze.

It was time he made the ultimate sacrifice for her.


	2. Chapter 2

"Anakin, do you want to talk about it?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat on the right side of Anakin's bed, attempting to center his mind and attention on Anakin and his feelings even though the constant questions regarding Barriss Offee and her talk of the Republic's inevitable failure distracted him. He had been expecting to see Anakin grieving in the Room of a Thousand Fountains for hours upon hours, but instead he had arrived to his quarters to find him struggling to fix mechanical droid appendages. He was very unusually keyed up, and not in pieces like the parts in his control. He could not sense any attempt from Anakin to forge some resolution in his mind either, but rather what constituted nothingness.

_A secret?_

A certain possibility. Nothingness would have been most unfitting for such a situation―in fact, it seemed to be an attempt to hide something. Or, rather, dissolve something.

"Forget about it. She's gone."

The hoarse words flowed toward Obi-Wan's ears, originating from a vector in front of the window to Anakin's room.

Anakin's current behavior was not at all what Obi-Wan expected. He had anticipated sadness taken to its extreme, or an oppressive fight and verbal lashing against the Council defending Ahsoka's case. Instead, Anakin seemed to be centering on his anxieties―even so, he was at best weighed down but not to the degree of fully collapsing in his emotions.

Perhaps that was what he was attempting to hide.

"Anakin . . ."

His former Padawan turned from the window, narrowing his eyes on Obi-Wan. "There's nothing to talk about."

Obi-Wan inclined his head knowingly. "Anakin, dwelling on Ahsoka's decision won't bring her back."

"That's not―!" He seemed to catch his words before the sentence reached conclusion. The suddenly aggressive Jedi turned his head, breathing out a sigh, and then responded. "I miss her, okay? Is that what you wanted me to say?" He found the strength within himself to look at Obi-Wan again, though the following words felt forced. "I still don't understand how . . . how she could've left the _Order_."

Obi-Wan found himself blind to Anakin's thoughts―not by his attempts to cover something up, but rather the haze of suspicions based on Anakin's behavior and differently used words. It was all so baffling and elemental. But he decided to attempt to give Anakin answers where he might possibly not have them.

"It was a surprise decision to all of us," Obi-Wan replied, attempting to fall in with the wave of the conversation.

Anakin walked back and forth slowly, crossing his arms. "It was . . ." He stared at the wall, clearly longing for her return. He breathed out another sigh, shaking his head. His arms dropped to his sides but in betrayal of Obi-Wan's perceptions, he didn't slump against the wall and slowly allow tears to stream down his face. Instead he marched back to the window, glancing outward.

Obi-Wan slowly stood up and briefly closed his weary eyes. _What is he keeping from me?_

Slowly breathing through his nose, he stepped over a broken motivator and stood beside Anakin, putting his left hand on his former Padawan's left shoulder and looking at his eyes, searching for clarity.

Delicately, he asked, "How long is it going to take for us to start being honest with each other?"

No answer came.

He continued speaking. "You're my brother, Anakin. I want to be there for you when necessary, and I don't know how I can do that if you aren't willing to confide in me. To trust me." He looked down before inquiring, "What is it that has you so bound?"

For a moment, all he could feel next to him was a cold monument of resistance. But then Anakin spoke.

"You'll find out soon."

Turning to his left, he headed for the door to his quarters, grabbing his lightsaber from a shelf as he walked away.

Looking down, Obi-Wan felt a desperation that Anakin usually dealt _him_ in moments like this.

"How?" He had attempted to pronounce it more softly, but the word came bluntly.

Anakin paused with his back to the entrance of his quarters, his arms folded behind his back. He breathed slowly before giving Obi-Wan a clue to work with.

"Actions speak louder than words."

And with that, the doors shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Padmè sat on one of the two couches within her household on Coruscant.

Before her on the table in front of her was a portable console, projecting images of the wonderful homeworld she used to be apart of―Naboo, a beautiful planet where liberty wasn't bound or overpowered. A place where peace always managed to prevail above all.

The eventual haven for her and Anakin.

As a representative of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, she owed a responsibility to the society: to preserve the integrity of its ideals, and thus forge a time of peace where golden lives like Ahsoka's weren't destroyed because of its own contradicting corruption. Today, she had failed to do just that. Looking into the faces of those such as Tarkin who somehow curried favor with the Chancellor, she was faintly beginning to lose her faith in the Republic. She reflected on all the times the Separatists expressed their welcoming willingness to receive her, and as much as she sought not to, began to wonder if she was fighting for the wrong side. Began to think that the Republic that hardened men like her husband fought for was beginning to become the very evil that everyone was apparently fighting to destroy.

In shameful moments like this, all she wanted to do was somehow leave everything behind with Anakin by her side. All she wanted was more opportunities to feel the comfort of his love, to do what they liked anywhere. It was her only true source of full security and trust.

A bell rang in the back of the room, and she shook her weary head, blinking her eyes and standing up. She walked towards the door to accommodate the person who trespassed on her private moment of introspection.

But she was truly dazed to find her husband standing before her when the door opened, looking at the floor beneath him.

_What?_

After what had just happened to him, she fully expected him to be alone as well, in the middle of a postmortem.

But it didn't matter. They needed each other now, more than ever. She knew it.

Padmè placed her hand on the left side of his face, stroking his hair slowly with her thumb.

"Ani," she mumbled, looking into his eyes sympathetically.

But he seemed reluctant to look back.

He trudged past her to the nearby light emitter, and in his slow stride she couldn't help but notice the lightsaber hilt hanging from his belt. It was unusual, given he usually left it with Artoo whenever visiting her personally. More than being unable to know what to make of it, she couldn't fathom what good it represented anymore. Not within Anakin's mind, anyway.

She observed while still standing at the open door as he sat down. He wasn't supporting his heads in his arms or closing his eyes and thinking deeply as he usually did in these situations. All he could do was watch beyond the cities of Coruscant.

_Watching after his Padawan._

Frowning, Padmè slowly closed the door and then walked over to where he was sitting. She stood to his right, trying to follow his gaze but not managing well enough to see what he could. She would take it upon herself to create something else for the two of them to see―more so, to feel.

"I'm sorry, Anakin," she sighed, clenching her jaw. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "It's not your fault. It's mine."

She paused in her thoughts, not being able to comprehend in the slightest what he meant. Wasn't it the Chancellor and his corrupt Court's fault that they failed to see Ahsoka's purity? Wasn't it Tarkin's fault that she was nearly many steps closer to execution? Wasn't it Barriss Offee's fault that she had been found allegedly guilty in the first place? Wasn't it the Jedi Council's fault that she was abandoned by almost everyone?

Wasn't it Anakin who nearly sacrificed his own life to save her?

She almost openly inquired what he meant, but then stopped as he stood up and turned around, facing down again as he was walking towards her. He made no move to touch her or face her.

"Padmè," he said so gently. His voice sounded as through it were on the verge of breaking as easily as glass, but barely managed to stay intact.

His frozen eyes finally met hers.

"What is it?" she whispered, stepping closer to him.

He shook his head ever so slightly. "I can't do this anymore, Padmè."

She bit her lower lip. "Anakin, what are you saying?"

He seemed to be at a loss of breath. "We . . ."

Padmè began to shiver.

He continued to speak. "This isn't true love."

Her eyes widened, darting with panic at different sides of the room. "A-Anakin, why are you saying this? I―"

"Please," he begged, his eyes slowly beginning to water. "Please hear what I have to say."

She shook her head, closing her eyes. She knew what was going to happen. Inside, she just wanted to order him to say it straightforward, but she was so _tired_. She couldn't muster the energy to be angry, she would drown in her sadness.

He continued after letting her collect herself. "True love shouldn't have to be hidden."

"But―"

Anakin shook his head. "I don't care if I was a Jedi, or―"

"_Was?_"

He paused, letting it settle in.

She thought hard on it, and now she understood. Anakin was going to follow Ahsoka and be there for her because it was solely what his heart convinced him to do. He wasn't relying on rationality, like he did whenever he remembered that he had to keep his and Padmè's relationship a forbidden secret.

One unfelt tear streamed down her face, and she looked up at him again. "Then why do you still have the lightsaber?"

Without moving his gaze from her eyes, he gripped the hilt and held it backwards in his hand, offering it to her. Slowly, she placed her hand on it.

He did nothing else as he continued talking. "I know this is the last possible thing you need, but I _have_ to do this." He stepped closer, towards the front of the hilt where the blade would emit. "You can take my lightsaber and do with it as you wish, use it or destroy it when you have to. Or you can ignite it if it's something you _have_ to do."

Her hand shook. She strongly fought an urge to kill him, even after all of the despair she had just endured. Anakin was willing to sacrifice his conscience for Padmè before, but for Ahsoka, he was willing to give up everything. Even his life, right now. Right here.

Her teeth chattering, she gave in to what she felt deep inside and took it from his grasp.

She felt her face pale as Anakin stared at her.

"I'm so sorry," he hoarsely whispered. "Thank you."

He slowly walked past her towards the door, and she made no move to stop him. She knew that Anakin knew why she hadn't decided to punish him in such a severe way he thought he might deserve.

She preserved his life as long as he could use it bring himself peace in Ahsoka's wake.


	4. Chapter 4

Ahsoka, a former Padawan fallen from the Jedi Order, continued to walk the streets.

She blocked out all of the questioners, the accusers, the sympathizers, those who spat on her without any thought of relent―she blocked all the life of Coruscant away from her crumbled world. All she could do was think about everything that had happened to Anakin.

Not herself.

When at first she left him, she felt so dubious, even if her sadness outweighed it. He had tried to save her on so many occasions in the past few days―from being shot down by clone troopers, from being lost to the filth of the underworld, from being banished from the Jedi Order by the Council itself, from being executed by the Galactic Republic's very own ruler. He sacrificed so much for her. And she unfairly rejected him all because of one woman he swore his life to.

_How could I do that to him!?_

She hoped Anakin would realize that no matter how hard she tried to hide her unavoidable feelings, she just wasn't good enough to have a place with the Jedi. But deep down, they both knew this wasn't the reason behind her decision. Anakin had a strength Ahsoka didn't―he could keep the universe in the dark if it meant preserving his chances to express his feelings and somehow balance it out with his duties to the Jedi Order. And Ahsoka gave into her emotions in her most critical moment, the reason she couldn't be with him anymore. And even if it was cruel, it still gave him more opportunities to be happy. Ahsoka was only a failed student, and she prevented placing an unsolvable conflict on his shoulders. It was never her choice to make the Chosen One choose, and it never would be. And regardless of what he is, she would never wish it on him in any instance.

She would never give herself the chance to, either.

Lost in her thoughts, she accidentally stumbled into a Sakiyan citizen. He turned around, clearly irritated at the blunt intrusion―especially from a blight like her.

She widened her blue eyes, raising her right hand apologetically. "I'm sorry, I―"

He slapped it out of the way. "Don't get near me again, seditionist. Just leave Coruscant."

Ahsoka's eyes burned with a sense of worthlessness, and she continued along, feeling his disgusted eyes on the back of her head without even guessing.

_He won't have to worry for long. I'll be gone soon, somewhere_―_I'll go to Shili and be with my family, make up for all the time I've been avoiding them . . ._

She looked upward, seeing a planetary transport touching down on a nearby platform. She checked and made sure she still had her passport handy, and forced herself to keep going.

But―

Her heart tensed as she felt a desperate hand grab ahold of her arm, and she turned around to see . . .

_Him._

Anakin came for her.

She steered around and examined his face again. He looked so worn, like he had been poisoned. His blue eyes shook with such sheer intensity. He seemed to be unable to breathe again. He didn't know what to say, he could only grip her arms.

Ahsoka frowned, not knowing why he couldn't let her go. She searched his eyes for clarity, but they were so full with tension and emotions, it was unexplainable. He didn't even have his lightsaber.

He opened his mouth, breathless for a moment, his eyes lowered. "I . . ." Looking into hers again, he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her slender waist tightly, his neck hovering over her shoulder.

All Ahsoka could do was stand there, taking it all in. Her heart stopped, her body motionless. What had she done to deserve this from him? Why didn't he want to revile her? Why did he come all this way just for her, after she left him?

And then she understood.

_I've rejected you one too many times today._

Inhaling deeply, she slowly brought her arms up for a returning hug. They rocked together slowly, absorbing each other, expressing the significance they felt of each other. Ahsoka _needed_ it. It was sad, but it was also beautiful.

They looked at each other one more time before breaking into a kiss, eyes closed.

_I love you._

This wasn't passion, like Ahsoka always knew Anakin felt in Padmè's wake. This was pure, driven love. Something Ahsoka never felt before.

They broke apart, gasping for air. Simultaneously, their foreheads against each other, they both whispered, "I love you."

Ahsoka had never said those exact words before, ever. It was so releasing. And she had never received them, either. They gave her so much warmth, unmeasurable.

They closed their eyes and pressed their lips together again. Ahsoka smiled through it, feeling her heart accelerate as they gave each other more strength. It drummed within her body overwhelmingly.

Love was like water. She drowned in it but she couldn't live without it.

They broke apart again, and Ahsoka stared into his eyes widely with a new degree of hope. He grinned as she knotted her fingers through his.

"Come on," he said softly, kissing her forehead gently. "Let me take you away from here."


End file.
